So my friend, who recently began running in his efforts to complete a half marathon, told me he can run 5-minute mile pace for 3 miles.  Not to be a doubter, I'm not so sure if he can.  Especially at this moment in time, I know I cannot do that, and I don't think he's faster over the distances as me. 

I am not exactly in any sort of racing shape, or any sort of shape to be wagering bets with boys - let alone young men in their mid-twenties - but I feel like I ought to be able to beat this one in particular.  And this is not because I don't like him.  Rather, I consider him a great friend, not just because he's one of my boyfriend's best friends.  Snobbishly and competitively, I just feel, mid-way through my 11th year of running competitively, like I ought to put this male running novice in his place.

How could he just come fancy-footing into "my" thing - the thing that's made me definably different in this social circle - and whomp me?!  What about the Trials of Miles and long years of arduously compounded training and thorough dedication?  And, Oh, what of the sacrificial lifestyle choices and resolve to outlast yogging trends of mediocracy; the aim to tremendously outdo the predominately male couch-sitters and their assumptions which pervade the world!?

Persist, I must.  I feel as though i ought to carry the intentions of female runners everywhere, who may chuckle to themselves when stocky, muscular, fat, skinny boys and men alike chug, sprint or otherwise hurl themselves past any sports-bra-clad wearing runner - be she cooling down, running 10 more miles, or simply fighting the odds.  This is like a battle of the sexes.

Maybe I got fired up by some dumb, bigoted posts on LetsRun.com last week which one of the other assistant coaches pointed out.  Regardless of those posters' ignorance and ridiculousness, their prevailing myths prevail: we find countless "reasons why females can't run faster and compete harder after puberty or in college."  I see these myths manifested, I hear of their perpetration from older women and high schoolers alike, and I want to dash them.

Maybe I am feeling combative; JJ - the friend new to running - did not even say "I can beat you."  I just did the math insinuated by his words and cried "Fallacy!"  Regardless, I could not resist saying, "we're finding a race over Thanksgiving when I'm visiting home and Portland and It Is On."  Frozen turkey prize or not, I want to throw down at some local 5k, to pick off men's masters champions at a community fundrasing 5-miler.

So, I found a Turkey Trot.  I have 12 days to get my sleep-deprived, lackadasically running mileaged self into shape.  That is, in order to defend - more than embarass - my cause.